


somewhere at the bottom of the ocean

by ghoultown



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Internalized Homophobia, Just Some Boys Growing Old together, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Buzzfeed, Pining, School, Smoking, Therapy, Unrequited Love, Withdrawal, eventually requited, list format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-13 09:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15361101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoultown/pseuds/ghoultown
Summary: Ryan moves to Illinois when he’s five. He meets a boy with a jean jacket and finds himself fascinated. Especially when the boy is put into an ambulance, laughing.Or, the one where Shane likes jean jackets and grows up with Ryan.





	1. school years

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! this is my first bfu fanfic so i hope it’s decent! also this hadn’t been edited so sorry for any mistakes !

Kindergarten:

Ryan Bergara moves to Illinois when he is five years old and is immediately accepted into J. P. Henderson Elementary School against his wishes, two blocks away from his new life and twenty nine hours away from his old one. He misses the warmth of San Francisco. He doesn't like how unwelcome he feels on his first day of school, the sky swirling with muted greys and blues that scream discomfort.

His cubby is small and his hope is shrinking. He misses his friends and the patch of grass out front that was great to watch the sunset on. He wants to go home, but he is driven back to the half-empty house that makes him feel sick. His chest is tight as his mother tucks him into a sheetless bed, promising a better tomorrow and tucking a small bear into his tired arms.

 

First Grade:

Ryan finds that music is the only thing he hasn't lost when his father pulls out a worn, blue CD and sticks it into the player of the car on the way to school. He holds his backpack in his lap and closes his eyes. His right knee, pressed up against the back speaker, feels the vibrations of an early morning happiness that he forgot existed.

When he steps out of the car and onto the concrete outside the school, drowning in the grey of 7:34 am, he notices a bright blue in his periphery and turns, bag in hand, to see the only splash of color he'd seen in awhile - a tall brunette boy slides out of a tall, white truck and slings his brown bag over his blue jean jacket, adorned with pins of every color.

Ryan shuts the car door and tries to walk toward the boy, but a crowd of bus riders slips past him, sweeping the boy from his sight.

 

Second Grade:

Ryan is playing on the playground when an ambulance speeds by, screeching. He frowns and watches as it turned into the parking lot beside the fence. He steps forward and sticks his fingers through the diamond, metal shapes and rests his forehead on the cold bar. He observes as the brunette boy in a denim jacket is brought out on a gurney and stuffed into the back. Ryan is incredibly confused as to why the boy is laughing, but the bell rings (screeches), and he is tugged away from the fence by a teacher.

 

Third Grade:

The boy with the jean jacket's name is Shane Madej. He likes butterflies and denim and has read chapter books since Kindergarten. Ryan's eyes are wide open as Shane tells him about some of the page-lengths he'd read. He's got a black boot on one of his ankles because he fell somewhere. Ryan doesn't want to ask why, but he also really wants to ask why.

Shane's house is on the other side of town from Ryan's, so Ryan can't see his butterfly collection. Shane promises with both pinkies and a bonus pinky toe that he'll bring in one of them for show and tell. Ryan nods and thanks him before sharing his lunch with him. Home seems closer and his anxieties about music class seem to wither under the flickering fluorescent, caged lights of the cafeteria, and Shane's voice seems to be the reason.

 

Fourth Grade:

"That doesn't make any sense," Shane snorts as he shovels cold spaghetti into his mouth.

"It's all about energy, you wouldn't get it," Ryan mumbles. He flips through the book with his left hand, eating a PB&J with the other. "It's high school stuff."

Shane gives him a look, mouth full. "I'm smarter than you."

"You're not. You don't believe in anything." Ryan holds up a hand to shield his eyes from the mess that is Shane eating with his mouth full. 

"Hey," Shane finally swallows his food. "I'm smarter than you BECAUSE I don't believe in anything. I'll believe in aliens, though." 

"Really?" Ryan asks, surprised.

"Kinda. It seems more real than ghosts," Shane says with a shrug, "There's gotta be aliens somewhere. At least another type. Or else, we're the aliens."

"You're being weird again," Ryan complains. 

Shane shakes his head. "You are."

The next day, Shane comes in with a bright green alien pin on the collar of his jacket. Ryan smiles so wide, his cheeks hurt. He almost cries when Shane places a cold ghost pin in his palm. This is the first time they ever hug. 

 

Fifth Grade:

Shane comes over to Ryan's house for the first time. He marvels at Ryan's posters and his CD collection; asks when Ryan listens to each CD, how often the CDs are played. Shane likes music a lot. Ryan asks his mom if Shane can sleep over, but Ryan's mother tells him he has a birthday party to go to. Shane shrugs and thanks him for letting him come over at all.

 

Sixth Grade:

When Shane tells Ryan that he likes Derrick, Ryan looks at him funny.

"How do you know you like him?" 

"I don't know," Shane says, honestly. "I just feel like he's good."

"At what?"

Shane thinks about it for awhile.

"I don't know," he says again. "Maybe I don't." 

Ryan nods and turns back to his book.

The next day, when Shane tells Ryan that he's boyfriends with Derrick over the phone, Ryan says, "That's cool." He doesn't understand how Shane finds Derrick to be attractive, but he will support his friend anyway.

When Derrick breaks up with Shane five months later, Ryan asks Shane to come over and spend the night. They eat popcorn and Ryan sees Shane cry for the first time. But it isn't ugly or loud, it's quiet and calm. Ryan wishes he could cry like that. 

"I wish I could cry like that," Ryan says.

Shane wipes his eyes, "Really?"

"Yeah."

"What do you cry like?" Shane wonders aloud.

"Like this--" Ryan wails cartoonishly and gets Shane to laugh a genuine and surprised laugh. The redness in Shane's nose lifts after a few minutes and they both feel better. They watch superhero cartoons and compare hand sizes.

 

Seventh Grade:

Shane gets his first F and Ryan laughs at him for it. Shane shakes his head and pushes him off with a gentle smile.

"Maybe I shouldn't have made so many jokes in that paper that was worth twenty five percent of my final grade."

"Maybe," Ryan shrugs. "At least you killed it in all of your other classes! You're doing great."

"Thanks, man," Shane smiles. "Really. This would usually wreck me but you're helpful."

"I know," the shorter boy laughs. "What do you wanna do this weekend?” 

"Watch movies?"

"That's boring. We always do thattt," Ryan whines. Shane's eyebrows raise, confused at the increased speed of his heart at Ryan's higher voice.

"Then what do you wanna do?"

"I dunno," Ryan sighs. "We're boring." 

"We are NOT boring. How dare you," Shane places his report card down on the table and looks at Ryan. "Let's get IHOP afterschool and go to the pet store and look at the cats."

Ryan thinks about it for a moment. It sounds a little bit like a date but he nods. "I like cats."

"Same," Shane smiles.

Shane invites Ryan to his birthday party and Ryan gives him an early birthday present: a darker jean jacket, more in tune with his new style. Shane cries and hugs Ryan around his shoulders tightly, repeating, "Thank you, thank you, thank you" a million times. He wears the jacket everyday.

 

Eighth Grade:

Ryan goes out of town for a week during school on a trip that his family had planned months ago, so he had to go. Shane nearly begs him not to go, telling him that the only reason he goes to school is because Ryan is there.

Ryan gives Shane a big hug before he leaves, making Shane promise him to go to school every day. Shane promises with both pinkies. 

While in Texas, Ryan loses his phone and doesn't notice until it's too late. He feels incredibly embarrassed when they have to go into a phone store and buy a new one. Luckily, he has Shane's phone number memorized. He texts Shane as soon as his phone is active that he has a new phone and not to worry about him. Shane responds with a million heart emoticons and an exclamation point. Ryan smiles.

When Ryan returns to Illinois, his reunion with Shane happens in the front parking lot of the school. Ryan runs to him and Shane picks him up, swinging him around. 

"Sorry, I lost my phone on the second day I was there," Ryan laughs when he's put down. Shane looks at him funny. "Hopefully you didn't send me anything important."

"Which... which day did you lose your phone?" Shane asks cautiously.

"Monday. Why?"

"So you didn't get the texts I sent on Monday?" 

"...No. Why? Were they important?" Ryan asks with an excited smile. 

"Uh... no." Shane looks away and adjusts his bag on his shoulder, letting go of Ryan’s hips. "They weren't. We should go inside."

 

Freshman Year:

Shane shows up to Ryan's house with his bag packed and a wide, eye-crinkling smile on his face. He is there right on time, unsurprisingly. Ryan ushers him in, waving to Shane's brother as he pulls out of the sloped driveway.

"Sorry for the mess, I should have warned you about the other company," Ryan apologizes sheepishly.

"Other company?" Shane raises an eyebrow and scans the living room, nodding at the empty Goldfish bags, soda cans, pillows, and blankets strewn around the floor. "You have other friends?"

Ryan shakes his head, "No, but Jake has." 

Shane smiles. "Good. I get all your attention."

Ryan scoffs, "Not necessarily. We've got to babysit."

"Eh, they can handle themselves. Where are the little mongrels, anyway? I haven't met 'em yet."

"Noooo, Shane," Ryan whines. "Don't approach them. They're loud and will just leave us alone if we don't acknowledge them."

"Does that actually work?" Shane drops his bag on the brick ledge of the fireplace, sporting a doubtful look. Ryan doesn't respond. "Okay, buddy. I'm gonna say hi."

The shorter boy groans, "That's such a bad idea."

Shane walks toward the back door that was just slightly cracked open, the noise of two careless boys screaming outside seeping though the strip of light (a stark contrast to the dark of the house). He places his hand, fingers splayed out, on the door before looking back at Ryan, who is already wincing at what is to come. 

"You're really scared of these kids, Ryan," Shane says, almost disappointed. "It's gonna be okay, man." 

"I know," Ryan says, even though he didn't. 

Kids are monsters. Especially in pairs. Especially with water guns. 

Shane pushes the door open. Two nine year old kids turn on their heels and aim their water pistols toward the source of movement, expecting a short, tan, wide-eyed and colorful Ryan Bergara. Instead, they have the opposite: a pale skyscraper wearing a dark denim jacket over a black ensemble. They let their arms fall in surprise. 

"Heya, boys," Shane waves. "If you shoot water at me, I will break your little guns in half." 

Jake looks at Ryan, confused and afraid, "Ryan...? Who is he?"

"Shane," Ryan says simply. He doesn't want to ruin Shane's impact.

"THE Shane?" Jake's friend asks carefully. 

Ryan looks at Shane, "What does that mean?" 

"You go to J. P. Henderson Elementary?" Shane asks the kid. He takes a few steps forward. Both kids take ten steps back. Jake's friend nods. "Oh. Then, yes. I'm The Shane."

Jake and his friend nod once, look at each other, and sprint up the hill toward the tree house, where Shane can't get them.

Shane smiles and turns around to head back onto the porch, where Ryan is stood on the first step with a look that can only be described as awe. 

"They literally ran for the hills," Ryan mutters. Shane walks past him and settles into a chair. "What did you do in elementary school and why didn't I hear about it?"

"Well, buddy. You ever hear urban legends in school? Bloody Mary and all that mess, hauntings in the bathrooms?" Shane asks him, watching as Ryan sits in the seat beside him. Ryan nods carefully. "When I was in Kindergarten, I found out that I could climb inside the vents in the ceiling through a little trap-door outside the gym."

Ryan stares at him. "And?" 

"I'd sneak up there during lunch, above the boy's bathroom and wait for one of the guys to come and look in the mirror and I'd say something to 'em." Shane smiles fondly.

"...What... What did you say?" Ryan is amazed.

"Depended on the person. Usually just told them that Shane was going to get them. I did it until I was in second grade and couldn't fit in the little vents anymore," Shane shrugs. "The last day of second grade, I jumped down from the vent and fucked up my ankle. But it scared the shit outta whatever kid was washing his hands." Shane laughs, "The lore's pretty deep, now. People say I'm a demon." 

Ryan shakes his head. He can picture Shane as a demon in his head. He can also picture a little boy in a bright jacket being lifted into an ambulance. He wants to frown at the darker shade of the jacket Shane now owns. It makes him think about how time has passed. "Amazing."

"Yep," Shane reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a mint tin. Ryan raises an eyebrow as Shane opens it, revealing five cigarettes and a red lighter. "Do you mind?"

"Nah," Ryan is surprised Shane smokes. He doesn't seem like he would. He seems too... good. "I'll grab the ashtray my mom keeps around."

"Thanks," Shane grins.

 

Sophomore Year:

"Are you sure you're not a demon?" Ryan asks as he shuts the car door with his hip.

Shane looks at him, pulling his sunglasses off of his face. "What?"

"You said you're not a demon, but I'm starting to doubt that."

"Well, first, you're wrong," Shane says, effectively stopping Ryan's heart. "I never said I wasn't a demon, I'm pretty sure I said that people say I am." 

Ryan squints. Shane smiles. It is a good summation of their friendship.

 

Junior Year:

Shane begins to act strangely. He smokes much more when he comes over. His jokes, though just as dark as before, don't feel like jokes anymore. Ryan's worry has overflowed past the threshold of silence.

"Shane, man," Ryan places his hand on Shane's shoulder. The tall boy almost jumps, but he keeps his shoulders tense. His face is full of sharp shadows, his face divided right down the middle as he stares into the forest beyond Ryan's fence. The porch light's orange glow exposes Shane's right side and exposes the invisible smoke as it creeps up toward the sky. "Are you really okay?"

"What do ya mean, Ryan?" Shane asks in a nonchalant way that nips at the inside of Ryan's ribs. "I'm dandy. Always." 

Ryan looks out across the dark yard, his stomach uneasy. The cold is nipping at him and the entirety of his being wants to scream at Shane to put his stupid jacket back on. He looks so plain and lost without it, and seeing Shane's arms made him incredibly uncomfortable.

"Where's your jacket?" Ryan asks. "Aren't you cold?" 

"No," Shane sighs out, leaning his head back and inspecting his poison. "I'm perfect." 

Ryan stares. "What are we?” 

Shane takes his eyes off of his cigarette, the hot orange tip getting closer and closer to his fingers. "I don't know what you want me to say, Ryan."

"What happened?" Ryan sighs. The _to us_ is silent, but Shane understands.

A single tear appears from the corner of Shane's eye and it's out of character and it's so vulnerable that it makes the sky feel much closer to them both. "I don't know, Ryan." The tear glows and reflects the light. Everything aches.

"Do you want hot chocolate?" Ryan's voice is raw. He doesn't like how Shane is saying his name. 

"I want _you_ ," Shane says, leaning down and extinguishing his cigarette in the middle of the orange ashtray Ryan's mother had gotten from their summer trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. That week that destroyed him. The week that introduced the idea that he couldn't survive without Ryan. He stands and holds his hands out, pulling Ryan to his feet.

Ryan looks up at him. _Surely he doesn't mean that,_ he thinks, and smiles at his friend. Shane just looks down at him with drowning eyes, glancing down to Ryan's fingers in his. He sighs.

"What kind of hot chocolate?"

 

Senior Year:

Shane tells Ryan he's in love with him in the parking lot of J. P. Henderson Elementary School at 11:49 pm on a Sunday night. He had picked Ryan up in his brother's car a few hours earlier, taking him to get a milkshake and joking around, driving down streets they'd never been.

When they pull up to the school, Ryan is confused. But his stomach is full and Shane is in his jacket, and things feel right, so he doesn't question it. Shane parks near the cafeteria and opens his door. Ryan follows suit. There is no sound but the bugs in the grass, but even they seem to feel tension as they fade in and out with no rhyme or reason.

"What are we doin' here?" Ryan asks, curious. He follows Shane around the back of the school, down to the blacktop and the playground where they first officially met after Shane had finally come back to school with his special jacket on and Ryan could identify him.

"I just needed to find a secluded place to murder ya," Shane says with a tired smirk. Ryan laughs. Shane opens the gate to the playground, and Ryan walks past him, moving his sneakers so that his feet sink into the newer gravel. The equipment hasn't changed, and Ryan smiles as he looks over everything. It's all the same.

"How are you gonna murder me?" Ryan turns around to look at Shane, who is standing against the fence with a muted smile.

"Clearly," Shane says, pushing himself off of the fence. "I'm gonna tie you upside down to the top of the slide."

Ryan laughs, doubling over. "I can't die from that! What else are you gonna do?" 

"I couldn't murder you if I wanted to," Shane's voice is soft.

Ryan smiles, "Eh, I think you could. If I talked about ghosts enough. You hate me when I talk about ghosts."

"Not even then."

The shorter boy sighs and takes one final spin around the playground before turning back to Shane, wondering what happens next simply with a look.

"Let's sit on the swings."

Ryan nods and makes a run for it. Shane saunters carefully after him, not speeding at all. He is terrified of tonight. He is terrified of his friend's reaction. Terrified of what happens afterwards.

Ryan sinks on one of the lower ones, while Shane sits on the higher swing next to him, though still his legs are nearly at his chest. Shane wraps his hands around the cold metal. He feels Ryan's eyes on him and he doesn't know what to do.

Ryan speaks up first, "Thanks for the food tonight."

"Not a problem," he says before adding, solemnly, "that's the fastest way to a man's heart."

Ryan laughs for a long time, shaking the swing set. Shane is frozen, his feet planted and his hands gripping so tight and hot to the chains that he's afraid he might melt them in half.

"Ryan..." Shane says, his body throbbing and his blood hot, "Do you remember when I was dating that guy, and you said you didn't care that I was dating him?"

Ryan's head turns quickly, "Yeah, man. Why?"

"I just..." It was dark. Shane closed his eyes and tears flooded his face. He can't hear anything over the pounding of his ears. He takes a shaky breath, "You have _no idea.._. how much that meant to me."

Ryan was probably smiling. "It's no problem, big guy. You know we'll be best friends until we die. And even then, we'll be ghost friends." 

"I'm in love with you," Shane says. The words escape his mouth and drift to the moon and they'll never come back. Shane wants them to come back.

Ryan's presence turns cold. "What?" 

Shane stays silent. He pushes himself back and forth on the swing, keeping his eyes down. Even the dark is blurry through the tears, he can't even focus on his own hands as he holds them in his lap. He tangles his hands together, digging his nails into the back of his hand.

Gravel crunches to his right. "Dude..." The chains of Ryan's swing clatter together as Ryan stands in the dark.

Shane squeezes his eyes shut, a sob climbing up his throat, burying its claws into his tongue. He doesn't let it out.

"Shane, I care about you so much...”

It's all over for Shane. He sits and sways and waits for Ryan's excuse that will inevitably be the axe that comes down and lobs his fucking head off.

".. but I have Helen."

Shane nods in the dark. A pool is forming in his palms. He lets it fall onto his shoes and the gravel below.

"Yeah," he says, voice sputtered and wrecked.

"I'm sorry if I... like... you know," Ryan's voice is shaking ever so slightly. "Made you think..."

"No," Shane shakes his head solemnly and smiles to no one in particular. "I knew you didn't... I, uh. Just needed you to understand."

"I'm gonna... go grab a taxi. Okay?" Ryan says quietly. 

"Yeah."

Ryan leaves Shane to think, and he does. Maybe too much.

 

Freshman Year:

Ryan moves into his dorm in late August, setting up his desk with all of the knick knacks he's gotten used to over the years.He's left many of them at his childhood home, twenty nine hours away, the ones full of memories, the ones that Shane touched, the ones he'd stared at for hours after he'd gotten home on a summer night after high school graduation.

His roommate is nice and he is tidy, he doesn't say much and doesn't bring anyone over.

While unpacking, Ryan finds a pillow case that smells like cigarettes and he retreats into the bathroom, holding it to his nose as he sits silently in the bathtub, wondering if anything will ever be okay again.

 

Sophomore Year:

Ryan rolls an old ghost pin in between his fingers as he reads a textbook on Sociology. The library is nearly empty but it's all he has to study in. His roommate transferred schools and his new roommate is a lot to handle. Loud and annoying. Not very smart. 

Ryan swears he sees Shane behind one of the bookshelves, looking at books with disgust, but upon closer inspection, it's just another person who happens to wear darkened denim. Ryan's heart sinks. For the first time in a few days, Ryan wonders if Shane has changed his number. For the first time in a few hours, Ryan imagines what Shane looked like alone on a swing set in the dark, in the cold. For the first time in two years, Ryan realizes what a dick move it was to imply that Shane had misinterpreted Ryan's friendship.

 

Junior Year:

Ryan breaks up with Helen after two years of torturous thoughts of Shane. She asks why, looking into his eyes with so many questions, and Ryan can't answer any of them. So he doesn't. He says he's sorry, he gives her a hug, and then he plans a summer trip to Illinois. 

Ryan calls Shane's mother's number before booking his plane tickets. She answers, the actual Mrs. Madej, and Ryan braces to get chewed out and maybe damned a bit, but when she realizes it's him, she shouts with joy. 

"Ryan! How are you, baby! We all miss you here so much. It's been awhile since we heard from you!" Her voice is shrill and joyous through the receiver and Ryan wonders if Shane told her anything about what happened between them. He mustn't have.

"I'm well, Mrs. Madej. Thank you! I was just checking to see if Shane still lived in Illinois. I haven't talked to him in awhile and I was thinking of visiting," he says slowly. He's terrified that Shane may not live in Chicago anymore. It would feel so wrong to see him somewhere else.

"Of course he's still here, Ryan. Finally moved into his own apartment a month ago," Mrs. Madej's voice is solemn. "We thought we'd lose him for awhile, but he's doing well. I think a visit from you would just brighten him up."

Ryan winces, "You do?"

"Oh, Ryan. Yes! Are you going to tell him that you're coming to visit?"

"No, I think I'll keep it a surprise. But, do you think you could send me his address? I'm coming down there in a few months and I wanna plan everything out well."

"Of course, dear."

When Ryan hangs up the phone, he cries into his hands. He doesn't know why.

 

Senior Year:

Ryan is standing outside a blue and grey apartment complex. It doesn't look like a place that Shane belongs, and it makes his heart feel numb looking up at the building that blends in with the sky seamlessly.

On the plane, Ryan had worried that maybe Shane had already moved on. Friend-wise and Love-wise. Both are understandable, but Ryan is so homesick that he just wants to see him. It doesn't matter if Shane screams at him to get out. He just needs to look at him again and say how sorry he is.

How different Shane was now... that was also a concern. Maybe when Ryan says hi, Shane will act weird. Maybe Shane won't even be someone Ryan wants to be friends with... That is a terrifying thought.

But regardless, Ryan needs to see Shane. It doesn't matter who he is. 

Ryan walks up the three flights of stairs to apartment 130, slowly and carefully. His hands are shaking and his shirt is too loose on his body from hours of travel. Everything feels like a dream; everything is blurred at the edges and Ryan feels nauseous.

Ryan stands in front of the door for ages. He wonders if Shane is dating someone, if Shane will open the door and already have a guest. His brain rushes back and forth. His hand moves of its own accord, reaching and knocking five times on the door. Gently.

"Coming!" A voice calls from inside. Ryan freezes and all of the air rushes out of his lungs.

The clunk of two locks opening. The door opens quickly.

Shane stands there in a light blue sweater, his hair a mess and black glasses resting on his nose. He looks so... soft. His face transforms from a soft smile, ready to welcome a neighbor or girl scout, into a softer look of confusion.

"Ryan?" Shane's voice cracks. His eyes become misty.

"You look exactly the same," Ryan says for some reason.

"You don't," Shane says quietly. He steps back and sweeps a long, long, long arm to the side. "Come in?" 

"Yeah, thanks." Ryan steps inside and a weight falls off his shoulders. "You haven't changed at all." 

Wall to wall posters of butterflies, interesting bands, old movie posters. The smell of coffee and cigarettes. Three jean jackets hang on a coat rack. Dark blue carpet, light blue couch with three dark blue pillows and one covered with colors.

Shane is just standing, staring at Ryan, one hand on his hip and the other over his mouth.

"Ryan, can you tell me why you came, please?" Shane whispers. 

"What?"

"I just need to know if I can hug you."

Ryan cries. He lunges toward his friend and presses his cheek against Shane's chest.

"You're so tall," Ryan sniffs. 

"You're so little," Shane mutters, his voice surrounded by sentiment and happiness and fondness. He rests his chin on Ryan's head, "I missed you."

"I missed you so much more," Ryan pulls back and looks at his friend. "I broke up with Helen."

Shane almost falls on the ground. His eyes are wide and hopeful. Maybe a little terrified. "...What does that mean?"

"I want to catch up with you and then I want to see what happens," Ryan says. "I couldn't... I just know I can't do anything without you." 

Shane nods helplessly, "Me neither." He sighs but perks up again, "Fuck! You haven't met James yet."

Ryan's heart plummets. "James?"

Shane looks at him for a long time before sighing and grabbing Ryan's hand. He drags Ryan to his room and points at the faded orange cat that's fast asleep on his pillow.

"Ryan," Shane whispers, gesturing to him before pointing to the cat, "meet James."

Ryan wants to hit him but he doesn't. He just leans into his friend and allows himself to be swept into another hug.

"I love you," Shane mumbles.

"Me too, one day," Ryan promises. Shane retracts and holds up his pinkies. Ryan cries again.


	2. first months

July:  
Ryan hasn't brought many things with him so this is going to be interesting. He clearly didn't plan to stay as long as he will be. The emotion of seeing each other was the final nail in the coffin, and Shane doesn't know if he'll ever let Ryan leave his sight.

Nothing hurts, it hadn't for a year and a half after Closure set in, but Shane feels entirely carefree as soon as Ryan sat down on his couch for the first time. Seeing Ryan in the place he lives now makes everything come back, all the teen angst, but all the teen emotion. It isn't bad.

"Do you want anything?" Shane asks from the kitchen, bending down to look at him underneath the cabinets that hung from the ceiling. Ryan glanced over and shook his head gently. They both just smile at each other, lost for words and lost for anything but genuine happiness. It's so much, but it's so warm.

Shane pours himself a cup of coffee, peering around the cabinets and watching his friend scan the room with his eyes, curious. He doesn't blame him; his apartment is pretty crowded, visually.

Ryan reads his mind, "I was scared when I got here because the building is so boring on the outside."

A laugh bursts from Shane's chest, surprising its owner. "I know. I settled a bit. But at least it's exciting in here, right?"

"Yeah," Ryan agrees, leaning back into the cushions. "It's like a really advanced pillow fort."

Shane grins, maneuvering across the blue carpet and sinking next to his friend, their shoulders only an inch apart, on the couch. "Thanks. I thought so, too."

They sit in a comfortable silence, more comfortable than they've been in a long time. And it's fine.

Shane sighs and says, "I'm glad you came today. I was getting sad."

Ryan wants to sob, but he holds it in his mouth. He leans his head on Shane's shoulder, closing the gap between them. Shane feels like he glows.

"Are you tired?" Shane asks his friend, Ryan hums in affirmation. "I can turn down the bed for you, if you'd like."

"No," Ryan breathes, exhausted from travel but wanting so badly to stay awake and talk about everything for hours and hours. "Wanna stay here."

"Okay, well, hold on. Lemme make sure everything I need is within reaching distance," Shane laughs. He holds Ryan's head up with his hand as he leans forward and gathers his coffee, laptop, and chargers, placing them to his left in the remaining space of the couch. Ryan closes his eyes and just breathes.

When he wakes up, he's laying horizontally. The living room is a dim orange hue and the weight on his body is that of a blanket (sadly, not that of his tall friend). Ryan digs his face into the fabric and inhales. His pillowcase didn't smell like Shane anymore, so this was practically bliss.

He opens his eyes completely and pushes himself up. The little amount of light that peeks into the living room comes from the kitchen, where a long shadow creeps up the blue wall. Ryan stumbles in its direction, muttering "Shane?" groggily.

When Shane sees him, his face lights up. "Hey! You've risen! Are you hungry?"

"Yeah," Ryan crawls up onto the counter and leans his head back against the wall. "What're you makin'?"

"Breakfast," Shane says. He registers the panic on Ryan's face and clarifies, "for dinner."

"That's awesome," Ryan nods in appreciation. He looks around the kitchen and frowns at Shane's fridge. "Why don't you have any pictures up?"

"Don't have any magnets. Or... pictures," Shane gnaws on his bottom lip as he slides some pancakes onto a plate. "Syrup?"

"Drown me in it," Ryan said dryly.

"Gotcha." Shane hands Ryan a plate, "Do you wanna eat there, or...?"

Ryan shrugs, "Do you?"

Shane shrugs back, "You're the guest."

"No, I'm not."

"You kind of are...?" Shane laughs, "I know it's weird, but you're still a guest. Even if we're best buds, we gotta follow the Guest Rules."

"What are the guest rules?" Ryan wonders, both jokingly and seriously.

"We do whatever the guest wants, I think," Shane doesn't know. "I don't have guests often."

"Often?" Ryan slides down from the counter and looks up at Shane.

"Or... ever," Shane admits with a soft smile, "But it's fun! First guest in the apartment!"

Ryan wants to smile, but his worry for his friend supersedes it, "Shane, have you really not had anyone over yet?"

"Nah," Shane looks around and mindlessly wraps his arms around himself. He looks proud of his space, but there's something else there. "Didn't want anyone to come in."

Ryan frowns, "Shane..."

"If people come in, they'll tell me I can't have breakfast for dinner every night," Shane smirks at him and walks into the living room.

Ryan is close behind, "EVERY night, Shane? What the hell, are you five?"

 

August:  
The feeling Shane gets as he wakes up with Ryan against his side is phenomenal. There has never been warmth that he's known as great as this one, and Shane knows it. He supposes that the call from his mother three months preceding Ryan's visit was now decoded. Ryan called his mother to check if his visit would be okay; Shane was incredibly soft for the man his arms were wrapped around, and everything felt right for the first time in a few years.

The last time Shane had seen Ryan, he hadn't even really seen him. He'd just heard a voice and shoes against gravel, and then Ryan had been gone. For several years. But Ryan came back to him, which was as surprising a development as any.

Shane removes himself from the bed and from Ryan and heads to the kitchen to make coffee and put food in James' bowl. He wonders what he did to deserve his reunion with Ryan. He'd been an absolute trainwreck for two years afterwards, not necessarily self-destructive, but definitely self-isolating. With his coffee in hand, Shane grabs his mint tin and sneaks out onto the balcony to attempt to take a break from his thoughts.

Ryan wakes up when he realizes Shane isn't in the bed anymore and frowns, pulling the covers over his head to retain some sort of warmth, but it doesn't work. The smell of coffee brings him out of bed, but the image of Shane in a short sleeve shirt outside, smoking with his head leaned back is what keeps him out.

Ryan pads over to the balcony door and knocks on it, startling Shane. Upon seeing Ryan awake - and scruffy and with a shock of dark hair on the top of his head - his face lights up. Shane puts out his cig and slides open the door, gathering Ryan up into a hug. Ryan holds him back, taking a deep breath and letting the comfort settle into his bones.

It was almost a solemn hug, but a hopeful one.

 

September:  
"You're already on the skeptic side, right?" Ryan sighs as he watches Shane scroll through his research. "That's a dumb question. Of course you are. You're Shane."

"Hmmmm..." Shane hums while he makes a decision, but he looks over at Ryan, "Hey, don't try to paint me as a... y'know."

"I'll paint you however I want."

Shane smiles for a moment but then looks up at Ryan, wide-eyed, feigning shock. "W-what?"

"I'll..." Ryan smiles incredibly wide, "I'll paint the hell out of you. However I want."

"You... paint me? In your free time?" Shane smiles, teasing and fake-flattered.

"Yeah. They're good, too." Ryan snatches his laptop back, face bright red. "You wanna see 'em?"

"Honestly? Never."

 

October:  
"What are we doin' tonight? Somethin' spooky?" Ryan asks, flopping down on the couch. Shane, in his pumpkin boxers, looked over at him with hopeful eyes before closing his laptop.

"I was thinkin' we could go out..."

Ryan leans in, "And...?"

"Go to Home Depot..."

Ryan's interest is both peaked and crushed, "... And?"

"... and get a spooky key cut for you."

Ryan stares, not understanding. Maybe for a bit too long. Shane doesn't seem panicked, but he definitely begins to lean away.

"Or we could go to Target and grab a few bags of candy," Shane adds, unlocking his phone and standing from the couch. "I don't know if you're a costume guy, but we could look for something if you wanted."

Ryan stays silent for some reason, glued to the couch and unable to say anything as Shane turns around the corner to the bedroom. His skin feels hot and his head hurts a little but he isn't sure why he couldn't just say something aloud. Maybe to tell Shane not to leave, or that he does want the key, or that he wants to think about it for a little bit.

Instead, he picks up his laptop and does some supernatural research because he hasn't done it in awhile. Or, he opens one website and stares at the screen for an hour.

When Shane reappears, he's wearing his pants and his glasses. James follows close behind. He walks toward the door and takes one of his jean jackets off of the coat rack. "Hey, do you wanna come with me to the bank?"

Ryan looks over at him and shrugs, "You really want me to witness you doing lame, adult stuff?"

Shane taps his chin, "Huh, you're right. If I still look like I'm 18 to you, then maybe not. I'll be back soon. Love ya."

The door closes. Ryan sinks down into the cushions. He feels shitty; somehow shittier that Shane doesn't seem to be that upset about it. This is the second time Ryan's rejected him - the thought that Shane may be used to it burns the back of his throat.

 _It's just a key,_ he tells himself. _It doesn't even mean that we're a couple. It just means I can get into his house whenever I want. Maybe it means that we're a couple._

Shane drives to a party supply store and picks up a few Halloween decorations, as well as a few things for an upcoming holiday that he doesn't want to mess up. He goes by Home Depot and cuts a key for Ryan, even if he doesn't want it. He understands that it may be too much for his friend now. Maybe saying he loved him was too much. But regardless, when Ryan would inevitably leave to go back to San Francisco, Shane would plan to slip the key in his bag.

Shane runs into Target to grab some candy, too. It's incredibly vital to a good Halloween experience.

When he returns to the apartment, Ryan and Shane watch terrible horror movies from either side of the couch, neither one of them daring to inch closer to the other for fear of destroying something already on the edge of ruin.

 

November:  
On Thanksgiving, Shane wears a blue turtleneck against Ryan's wishes:

_Ryan: "You already look like a turtle, please take that off."_

_Shane: "If you want me shirtless, just say so. Don't insult me before asking me to get naked, Ryan. I don't respond to negging."_

_Ryan: "Shut up, Shane."_

They drive to Shane's parents' house to visit and catch up before driving to Ryan's parents' and having dinner. Shane is incredibly polite and Jake can't help but stare at him from across the table in confusion. He wonders where the demon in Shane went and how Ryan exorcised him.

Ryan's father pulls Shane aside at the same time Ryan's mother pulls Ryan aside.

"How is he?" She asks him, seriously.

"Fine," Ryan assures her, "He's just like he used to be."

Ryan's mother raises an eyebrow. "Is that a good thing?"

"Yeah, mom. It is," Ryan says, slightly annoyed. "I don't really want to talk about this, given as he's _right there_ and it's Thanksgiving."

"Alright, alright," she holds her hands up and asks everyone if they want dessert. Shane hugs Jake tightly before they leave and tells him he isn't really a demon.

For Ryan's birthday a few days later, Shane takes him on a ghost tour of Illinois and doesn't crack a joke the entire time. Ryan finds his arm linked with the taller man's and, in the dark and in the crowd, it's perfect.

 

December:  
When Ryan finally decides he wants to live with Shane forever, it's Christmas Eve and Shane's eyes are half-closed as they watch a show that Shane hates, but Ryan loves, but Shane watches it anyway because he loves him.

Ryan's legs are over Shane's lap, a pillow hugged to his chest, kind of terrified but not wanting Shane to know (which is ridiculous). Shane has his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers lazily tangled in Ryan's hair as he's falling asleep. The domesticity, the belonging that Ryan feels in his chest as he reaches to brush his hand over James' head, is what finishes the deal.

"Shane."

"Yeah, bud," Shane murmurs groggily. His voice is gravel.

"Can we get a jolly key cut soon?" Ryan asks, ducking his head under the pillow as to not pick up on Shane's reaction, should it be negative.

Shane shifts, gently picking Ryan's legs up and off of him. Ryan freezes, holding his breath. Shane walks down the hall. When he returns, he has a tiny black box in hand.

"I'm not proposing, unclench," Shane laughs tiredly. He sits on the floor next to Ryan and hands him the box. "Merry Christmas."

Ryan cries and dives into Shane's arms. They land on the carpet and Shane just hugs him.

 

January:  
Shane wears Ryan's jacket and his own sweatpants to the airport. Ryan wears Shane's jean jacket and his own sweatpants to the airport. They bring empty suitcases to fill when they return to his place in San Francisco. Shane is anxious but incredibly excited to be in California, if only for a few hours. He's never traveled far out of Chicago. It's all new for him.

Ryan holds his hand when they get on the plane, both ways. Shane sits by the window both times, staring out the window with wide eyes that reflect the clouds that just sit in a blanket over the cities they fly over. Ryan pats the back of his hand mindlessly.

Shane makes fun of all of the things he kept from childhood, shelves and shelves of knick knacks that'll have to be shipped back to Chicago. Shane stops laughing abruptly when he spots a small ghost pin. He breaks into tears and Ryan wraps his arm around his waist to keep him standing, rubbing his fingers up and down his ribs.

"You kept it?"

"Did you keep yours?"

"Of course I did, Ryan," Shane wipes his eyes with a laugh.

 

February:  
"Say it again?"

Ryan turns, his glasses crooked on his nose and his hands wrapped around a hot cup of coffee. He is disgruntled. "Say what, Shane."

Shane covers his mouth with his hand, "Say what month it is again, Ry."

Ryan shakes his head and stares ahead at the muted television, "Shut up, Shane."

"Please! It's so cute," Shane gushes, resting his head in the crook of Ryan's neck.

 

March:  
Shane cries in the waiting room of the veterinarian's office while Ryan pats his head after James gets a bee sting on his paw.

"He hardly ever goes outside," Shane whispers through sniffles, "How the fuck did he get stung? I didn't even know there were bees in Chicago."

"There are flowers in Chicago," Ryan says.

"Whatever."

James ends up being fine and Shane holds him in his lap while Ryan drives them home, one hand on the wheel, the other on Shane's thigh.

 

April:  
"You wanna go get food?"

"Outside?" Ryan perks up, "You wanna go out and get food from somewhere else?"

"Woah, there. Don't seem so excited, my cooking isn't that bad," Shane pouts, hanging his jean jacket on his sharp shoulders.

"I know, but we never go out. Can we even, like... sit in the place where we're getting food?" Ryan asks, pulling his shoes on.

"Whatever ya want, babe," Shane says. "You wanna use your key, this time?"

Ryan nods excitedly, "Yeah, duh. It's my turn to lock the door."

 

May:  
Ryan Bergara tells Shane Madej he is in love with him in a way that he anticipates should be very simple to understand.

"Hey, Shane?" He asks as he enters the living room to see Shane dangling his earbuds above James, who is batting at them as if his life absolutely depended on it.

"Hey, Ryan!" Shane replies, his eyes glimmering at the sight of his best friend.

"I'm bisexual." There. Plain and simple. Ryan smiles at his friend as Shane lights up like a porch light at 1 am.

"Aw, Ryan! That's great! So proud of you," Shane's eyes crinkle and he looks back to his cat, cooing and petting James' belly.

Ryan stands in the doorway for a long time. "Shane."

"Yeah, Ryan," Shane says, pulling the earbuds out of James' reach. "What's up?"

"I'm bi..." Ryan continues, moving his arms to try and wind a realization out of Shane. "... Which means I like girls and boys..."

Shane's eyebrows raise and he smiles, "Oh! Did you meet a guy? I won't give you my blessing until I meet him, but I'm sure he's great. You have good taste." He winks at Ryan and goes back to playing with James.

"Shane, I haven't gone anywhere without you."

"Oh," Shane sets the earbuds down and looks up at Ryan, confused. "Ryan, did you go on Tinder? The ab pictures on that app are really misleading, are you sure...?"

Ryan rolls his eyes, "Shane, I'm bi and I love you."

Shane stares at him. "Why?"

Ryan blinks, "What?"

"Sorry, I mean..." Shane stands up. James pounces on the earbuds laid unattended on the couch. He takes a step forward, his arms by his sides, "... I mean, are you sure. I guess."

The shorter man nods.

Shane tries not to get his hopes up, holding an arm out and gently touching Ryan's shoulder. His fingers don't pass through. "Not a dream, then?"

"No, it's not a dream, you idiot," Ryan sighs and wraps his arms around Shane's neck, hugging him. "Why is it so hard to believe that I love you?"

"For starters, I didn't know you were bi until a couple'a seconds ago, so I didn't know there was a real chance," Shane says honestly, placing his hands gingerly on Ryan's hips. "Also I've had dreams like this for a few years now so I can't really be sure."

Ryan frowns and pulls back, "Really?"

"Yeah," Shane says, face flushed. "Sorry."

"Shane, we live together. We sleep in the same bed. We go everywhere together. How in the world would you think that I was out of reach?" Ryan asks, but immediately knows the answer as soon as the question escapes his lips.

"Well, Ryan," Shane says sheepishly, "I haven't had the greatest track record with telling people that I like them."

Ryan hears the words and feels terrible that Shane didn't just word it like it is: _"Well, Ryan, the last time I entertained the possibility that we could be together, you rejected me and left me alone in a park."_

But Shane is too good to say that. He loves Ryan too much and is often blinded by it.

Ryan shakes his head, "Shane, did you ever tell anyone else that you liked them?"

Shane answers immediately: "No."

"Why not?"

"I didn't wanna be with anyone else. Still don't," Shane speaks quietly, but holds eye contact and becomes serious for just a moment. Ryan feels like he's been thrown into a tub of ice. "So, I need you to be really sure that you want this. Want... me, you know? I'll be happy to still be your friend if you change your mind, but if you let it drag on..." Shane shakes off his serious look and smiles, "... I'm a sensitive guy."

Ryan smiles, "Yeah, I know.

 

June:  
Shane and Ryan tell their parents that they're together on the phone after taking a month of relationship time, testing everything out and making sure they really did work well together. They did.

Ryan's parents say they are proud of Ryan for coming out and ask Shane to take care of him, to which Shane responds, _"Darn. I was gonna be the worst. But 'kay."_

Shane's parents tell Ryan to make sure Shane eats well and goes outside. That is it. Shane's parents aren't very surprised at all.

When Shane and Ryan hang up the phone, Shane is a little misty eyed.

"You know," he says, "This was all I wanted, ya know? No huge astronaut dreams. Just wanted to see your dumb face everyday."

Ryan shakes his head, "Stop. You're gonna make my mascara run."

Shane laughs, "Let it run, baby! We're the kings'a the world!"

Shane and Ryan kiss for the first time nearly one year after reuniting. They stare at each other, laughter dying down, standing in the kitchen, their phones on the counter. Shane wants to kiss Ryan badly, he wants to finally just hold him and just attempt to show him how much he loves him in a way beyond words, but he doesn't want to push. It's been only a month since Ryan expressed any desire to be with a man, and Shane doesn't want to ruin it.

So he digs his mint tin out of his pocket, ruffles Ryan's hair, and heads toward the balcony. Ryan follows. Shane lets him.

They both stand out on the small balcony, overlooking a boring grey street. Shane lights his cigarette, bright orange in a torrent of dull. He leans on the railing, elbows out, facing Ryan. And he just smiles. Pure happiness with a sparkle of apology. And it pushes Ryan off of the edge.

Ryan inserts himself in the space between Shane's arms and kisses him. Lamely, just lips, no movement, just a kiss. One that he should have given Shane years ago on a swing in the dark, but it isn't dark anymore. It's 11:23 am and the sun is a spotlight. Ryan pulls back and looks at Shane, whose eyes are closed and whose mouth is curled into a sated smile.

"Thank you," he says. "Sorry for the smoke."

Ryan rolls his eyes, "That's the best part."

Shane opens an eye, "What? Should I be offended?"

"Maybe put a little effort in, next time," Ryan teases before walking back into the house.

Shane sputters for a moment before tossing his cig into the ashtray and following close behind, "Hey, you calling me lazy? C'mere, I'll show you effort."

 


	3. counting up and down again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i cried fifteen (15) whole times while writing this. I hope you guys like it !

One month before confessing:  
Shane slides into the passenger seat of his brother's car, his head in his hands and a weight like a plague pushing his shoulders down into the poorly cared for seats of Scott's burnt-orange 2000 Nissan Altima. Scott just gives him a sigh and pulls out of Ryan's driveway.

"Man," Scott says eventually, his told-you-so spirit overshadowed by his genuine brotherly love for the lanky boy beside him. "You can't just... keep doing this, you know."

"I know," Shane's shoulders are heaving. "I just don't think things are going to be okay after this. I'll tell him after graduation so I can run away."

"Really?"

"Yes." Shane isn't in the mood for jokes at his expense, "It's all I have left to do."

Scott sighs but keeps his eyes ahead. Shane's been steadily declining over the past few years. It had been the center of attention to the Madej family - there had been a kid a few houses down that had thrown himself off of a building, and Shane's mom wanted to keep him safe. Just in case he was going in that direction. It hurt Scott's heart that they had to talk about it. That they had to keep Shane in the corner of their eye at all times.

Eventually Shane just came clean to Scott. Not to anyone else, of course, but to his brother. Who else would be able to bring him back to reality, slap him around a bit, wake him up? But Scott hadn't, he just shook his head and brought Shane in for a hug. He didn't tease, he didn't make fun of Shane, he didn't... spit any slurs. Just patted him on the back and let Shane cry for the first time in a year.

But now it was different. Shane was hardly going outside but to take exams or to go to Ryan's house, and no one in the world knew Shane's secret but Shane and Scott. It wasn't sustainable.

When Scott pulls up the house, he places a hand on Shane's shoulder. Shane flinches. "Shane."

"Yeah."

"I love you, bud. It'll all be okay."

Shane doesn't reply, just unclicks his seatbelt and shuffles up to the house, sending a wave to his parents before disappearing into his room for the rest of the night. Maybe he would text Ryan, maybe not.

  
Four weeks before:  
Shane gives Ryan a high five as he runs past him down the track, his shorts high on his legs and his tank top showing all of his muscles off. Shane is sweaty and tired in his long sleeves and jeans, but he cheers anyways. He's here for his friend.

He feels like an incredibly small and useless addition when he sees the rest of Ryan's friends scattered against the fences, holding their hands out to support their friend. Shane nearly wants to find Scott and hide when he feels tears coming on. It's so stupid that he thinks maybe Ryan's only friend could be him. Not everyone is so content with only one person, Shane realizes and wipes his eyes.

He reaches to high five Ryan once more, sending a thumbs up as Ryan glances back. Shane recognizes a glimpse of worry in those eyes, but it's gone as soon as it comes.

Shane stands on the bleachers and pulls out his phone, crafting a text apology for why he had to leave early. He says he has a dentist appointment, but he finds himself in his bathroom, hands shaking as he pulls another cigarette to his lips, blowing the smoke out the window with every drag. Ryan eventually calls him, asking how the dentist appointment went, and Shane just tells him he's got perfect teeth, like always. Hearing Ryan laugh used to be enough to lift Shane's spirits, but it isn't anymore.

Shane feels just as empty as ever, but it's okay. It's going to be okay. He keeps telling himself it's going to be okay. He practices smiles in the mirror and thinks he's getting good at it.

  
Three weeks before:  
Shane thinks he's having a heart attack.

He's hiding in the bathroom of a McDonald's, his breath hitching in his chest and his fingers trying to dig his heart out of his chest because it's just throbbing in pain. His eyes are closed and he's praying to God that he's not going to die in McDonald's because it would be so embarrassing and he didn't want to find out if ghosts were real and he didn't want to haunt a fast food place.

Shane walked into the building with a family list of orders when he spotted Ryan and Helen, hand in hand, on the taller stools, sharing a milkshake and laughing about something. Shane had run away, just like he always did. And he wasn't sure if he could come back anytime soon.

Shane calls Scott quickly, the only person he can think to call. His face is burning as he presses his knuckles to his cheek, and he doesn't want to feel like this. He's never felt such physical pain over such a stupid situation. He lets out a cry through his mouth as Scott's voicemail message greets him.

Shane has his first panic attack in a McDonald's bathroom. His blood is boiling under his skin and it feels like his lungs are filled with water. 45 minutes later, he walks home alone with no food and red eyes, handing the list to his dad with shaky hands and asking if he can take a rain check.

Two weeks before:  
Ryan catches up to Shane on the sidewalk, jumping up onto his back. Shane reflexively grabs Ryan's legs with a grunt, thanking his stars that he had actually slept the night before.

"How's it goin', big guy?" Ryan asks in his ear.

"Pretty good. You?" Shane feels Ryan's hands on his head.

"I'm the king of the world. Are you always fine up here? Clouds are getting in my eyes."

"You caught me on a good day. The worst part is the fuckin' airplanes," Shane spins in circles, making airplane noises. Ryan laughs and drops himself off of Shane's back, still giggling as he jogs a bit to catch up with Shane, who is still walking forward.

"Woah," Ryan says as he catches up with Shane, looking up to see pillowed bags under his friend's eyes. "Exams catchin' up with ya?"

"Yep, studying all night, every night," Shane replies with a punctuated yawn. "My last one is next week, so I'll look more easy on the eyes next Wednesday."

Ryan snickers, "I hope so. You look like actual garbage, dude."

Shane's smile dies a bit. "Yeah, well. I'll try to get more sleep."

Ryan stops, "Oh. Sorry, Shane. I didn't mean to... y'know."

"No worries, bud. I got it, I do look pretty bad." Shane sends a painfully fake smile to Ryan. "You free on the 30th, Bergara?"

"I think so. I'll check my calendars and update you." Shane wishes he was important enough that he needed to keep a calendar. "Why, what do you have in mind?"

"Eh, just a dining experience and a walk down memory lane," Shane says, the tension beginning to fall from his face.

"That's cryptic as hell," Ryan remarks, and Shane laughs.

"Good, good. That's what I wanted." Shane looks at him, "But seriously. Get back to me about the 30th. I miss hanging out with you, man. We need a boys' night soon."

Ryan laughs, "You make us sound like girls, man."

"How? I said it was a boys' night." Shane looks down at his friend with confused eyes. "Do you think I'm going to put you in a dress, Ryan? You think I'm gonna fuckin'... give you a uterus?"

Ryan opens his mouth to reply, but he sees Shane's face, full of confusion and a bit of hurt, and he shakes his head. "Nevermind. I miss you too."

Shane nods once, not entirely convinced. "I'll see ya later, Ryan."

Ryan watches as Shane turns and walks away. Too late, Ryan realizes he never asked if Shane was okay.

  
One week before:  
Ryan invites Shane to a birthday party. Shane gets there and sees the signs that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HELEN and he wants to run so far away, wants to run home, wants to run until his legs give out, but he can't. He just smiles and pats Ryan on the back and hugs - HUGS - Helen and escapes to the patio just in time to throw up into the bushes and spark up a cigarette.

Ryan doesn't find him until the majority of the people left. He peeks out of the glass doors and finds Shane sitting on the edge of the pool, kicking his legs and looking up at the sun with the dull embers of a cigarette in between his fingers.

"Shane?" Ryan asks carefully as he steps outside. The air is hot and humid and uncomfortable. "Shane, dude. You in there?"

Shane jumps out of whatever trance he had himself in, pulling his legs out of the water and rolling down his jeans. "Hey, sorry. I just got a little overwhelmed."

Ryan frowns, "Sorry, dude. I didn't... think...."

"No, it's alright. I'm glad you invited me." Shane puts the already dull cigarette out on his wrist and Ryan stares at the ash on Shane's pale skin. Shane picks up his shoes, tucking the cig into his shirt pocket. "See ya around, bud."

Ryan doesn't register the wink Shane throws at him before he's gone, no trace of his friend being there, save for the faint smell of smoke in the air.

"Ryan?" Helen asks him from the door, "You okay? Where's Shane?"

"He just left," Ryan shrugs and walks back to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He pecks her on the lips with a smile. "Happy birthday."

Shane pauses in the driveway out front. He turns on his heel and starts to walk back. This should be a good time, he tells himself, to ruin my reputation with the one person on the earth that means anything to me. He peeks around the side of the house and sees Ryan embracing Helen.

So he decides, again, to leave and sleep until Monday.

  
One day before:  
Scott nearly yells at Shane, who is pulling at his hair in his bed as he stares at Ryan's MySpace page, post after post of Ryan and Helen, post after post of heart emojis and absolute bliss. Post after post of Ryan and friends. No trace of Shane anywhere.

"Shane, stop it, man! What the fuck are you doing?" Scott takes the small, inefficient VAIO laptop away from Shane, slamming it closed and setting it on the desk. Shane looks up at him, hair a mess and eyes dark. "Jesus, Shane. You can't do that."

Shane shook his head, "I can't do it. I can't do this. He's so happy, he's so good without me. Scott, there's no point in doing this. I'm gonna hurt either way. Did you see how happy he is?"

"Shane, he can't take pictures with you because you don't go out with his friends. Ryan doesn't just take pictures, it's the people he hangs out with that take pictures. Dude, it's not because he doesn't love you," Scott sits on the bed, the mattress creaking. Shane's breath is uneven. "Shane, come on. You have to tell him."

"Then what?"

"If he reacts okay, then everything's fine. If he doesn't, then forget him."

Shane looks up at him through wet, clumped eyelashes. "That's not helpful."

"I'm just saying, it won't be that bad. You'll come out of it feeling better, Shane, I promise." Scott ruffles Shane's hair. "Boys aren't that complicated, Shane. Either they'll be cool or they won't."

"Ryan's different," Shane whispers. "I thought it was gonna be fine, but he said this thing a few weeks ago that just... his friends are making him all... gay-panicky..." Shane takes a deep breath through his nose, "He doesn't even want people to know we're friends, I don't think."

"You're not out, Shane. They don't know," Scott says softly. "I know it feels like it, sometimes, but it's not."

Shane shakes his head, "He's not going to want me, Scott. I don't think I can handle that."

"It'll be great," Scott claps him on the back. "You'll be great."

  
One hour after:  
Scott was right. Shane feels better. Or, no, he feels numb. Which is better.

The hinge of the swing is creaking as he just sits, staring into the dark, the tears subsiding and the heat of his face fading. Ryan doesn't want him, that's fine. Genuinely.

He feels free to smile, now. There's enough space in his chest now that his heart is half gone for him to feel some happiness. Nothing will ever feel worse than hearing Ryan walk away had.

Shane stands and walks back to Scott's car when he's certain Ryan has left for good. He lets a few tears fall, but he isn't crying. It's just the rest of the pressure being let out. He pulls the keys out of his pocket and drives back to the house. Everyone is asleep, even Scott. Shane decides that he'll tell Scott in the morning.

He sits in his bathroom, under the bright yellow light, leaning on the windowsill and blowing smoke through the screen until the ash builds a wall between the holes and he's shut in once again.

 

One day after:  
Scott bursts into Shane's bathroom in the morning, fearing the worst. Instead, he finds Shane sitting blankly on the toilet seat, smelling of cigarettes and nothing else. He looks so tired but so peaceful, and Scott feels like his heart is shattering inside.

"Shane. Bud, hey. Are you in there?" He shakes Shane's shoulder until he blinks and looks up at him, eyes red but soft.

"Hey, Scott," Shane says, smiling solemnly but genuinely. "You were right. I feel much better."

"You need to take a shower, man. You need to take care of yourself, now. Time to move on," Scott helps Shane stand up, pulling his shirt over his head. "Are you okay?"

"I feel nothing but happiness," Shane replies tiredly, and he means it.


End file.
